s--to teach them
not to give themselves up to the embrace of dead materialism because,
as they fancy, they have had to depend on material weapons for carving
their way, and have had no help from other quarters. A suicidal
delusion! The spiritual weapon has done most, and always does. They are
sons of an idea. They deny their parentage when they scoff at idealism.
It's a tendency we shall have to guard against; it leads back to the old
order of things, if we do not trim our light. She is waiting for you!
Go. You will find me here. And don't forget my instructions. Appoint
for the afternoon--not late. Too near night will seem like Orpheus going
below, and I hope to meet a living woman, not a ghost--ha! coloured
like a lantern in a cavern, good Lord! Covered with lichen! Say three
o'clock, not later. The reason is, I want to have it over early and
be sure of what I am doing; I'm bothered by it; I shall have to make
arrangements ... a thousand little matters... telegraph to Paris, I
daresay; she's fond of Paris, and I must learn who's there to meet her.
Now start. I'll walk a dozen steps with you. I think of her as if,
since we parted, she had been sitting on a throne in Erebus, and must be
ghastly. I had a dream of a dead tree that upset me. In fact, you see I
must have it over. The whole affair makes me feel too young.'

Tresten advised him to spend an hour with the baroness.

'I can't; she makes me feel too old,' said Alvan. 'She talks. She
listens, but I don't want to speak. Dead silence!--let it be a dash
of the pen till you return. As for these good people hurrying to their
traffic, and tourists and loungers, they have a trick for killing time
without hurting him. I wish I had. I try to smother a minute, and up the
old fellow jumps quivering all over and threatening me body and soul.
They don't appear as if they had news on their faces this morning. I've
not seen a newspaper and won't look at one. Here we separate. Be formal
in mentioning me to her but be particularly civil. I know you have the
right tone: she's a critical puss. Days like these are the days for her
to be out. There goes a parasol like one I 've seen her carry. Stay--no!
Don't forget my instructions. Paris for a time. It may be the Pyrenees.
Paris on our way back. She would like the Pyrenees. It's not too late
for society at Luchon and Cauterets. She likes mountains, she mounts
well: in any case, plenty of mules can be had. Paris to wind up with.
Pari